The cow stood irresolute, debating between the lessons of experience and her own wishes, and the pugnacious counseling of her indignant offspring. Deciding in favor of the former, she wheeled and moved away, the rebellious calf protesting by kicking up its heels and by the defiant erectness of its tail. "Th' devil you say!" grinned Gardner, watching them depart. "Yo're big enough to be weaned, you overgrown baby--an' yo're shore goin' to be, for yore ma's goin' north." Out of a clump of brush popped a group of two-year-olds, heads up, curious and mildly frightened. They stood defiant until Gardner was nearly upon them, and then his sudden whoop sent them whirling and off toward Rock Creek, discretion overbalancing valor. He gave them no further thought, for they would continue to travel unless crowded too much, and he was too old a hand to do that. A cow with a dogie he let slip through, pity joining hands with common sense in their behalf. It was not his purpose to bother with sickly, stunted youngsters, nor to take from them the maternal care so necessary to their sense of security. By this time the outpouring of cattle had put a respectable number in front of him, and as others were routed out they more willingly went forward, for the gregarious spirit urged them to join the little herd. Occasionally one having more spirit than the others would wheel around and attempt to escape, but in all instances, except one, the speedy dash of the trained cow-horse headed them off and sent them on the about-face. The exception was a five-year-old steer, crusty and sullen, his hide bearing mute witness to his combativeness. He planted himself on rigid legs, lowered his sweeping horns and without even a grunt of warning charged straight for the watchful horseman.